Mine Is A Thankless Job
by AStormIsBrewing
Summary: "Every time I put a half-blood in Slytherin, I get a pleasant chill I think you would understand.  It's why I'll put you there, though you may one day curse me for it."  The Sorting Hat only ever knows what you want, not what is right.


Mine Is A Thankless Job

_Hello, everyone. The Harry Potter fandom terrifies me, sometimes, but I realize that I listen to kpop and watch anime and that fear of fangirls should make me fear myself. As I do not, I no longer have any reason not to post this. Enjoy_.

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Severus Snape knew what to expect. It wasn't that anyone had told how the opening ceremony worked – they hadn't, of course – but Hogwarts was made up of young witches and wizards who would be aspiring to be the same inconceivably ignorant people their parents were. Even in their teenage years they would rebel in predictable ways, and those ways uniformly caused him some discomfort at best, and at worst a good deal of pain.

He fully expected to face some sort of magical test which would bring great amusement to the rest of the students. Though there were undoubtedly other students as inadequately prepared as he was, the thought didn't bring him much comfort. He had been humiliated before (by some of his new classmates, no less), but that didn't make it any easier to bear it again.

He was a child, and he was nervous, of course. Some part of him was still holding out a small hope that his years at Hogwarts would be different, and his childhood would pass as a nasty dream while he lived in an unprejudiced haven dedicated to higher learning.

Olympus. Valhalla. The Kingdom of Heaven.

He put most of these ideas behind him when his trunk fell open when he tried to load it onto the train, scattering his possessions across the platform. The hope bloomed again when another girl allowed him to sit with her, but were dashed when he was pushed into the last, leaky boat nearly alone, with two boys the large groundskeeper tossed in after they tried to sneak in with the older students. Finally, he tripped up the steps and over his robes and when he would not talk to the other two boys, they only laughed and pushed and helped him fall.

Of course, Severus had more against him than a troubled past – half bloods could hide their heritage or even do well despite it. He was not a cute child filled with easy charms that kept adults delighted, and he liked books more than he liked tag, or hide-and-seek, or Quidditch, and this was inconceivable to other children and made him forgettable to adults. They couldn't be expected to rescue someone who wasn't there.

But Severus was there, and he did see everything. He was aware of the world in a way more children were not, out of necessity. There was profit to be had for one to avoid discomfort and embarrassment, and of knowing when the people around you planned it for you.

No, because of this, he saw the way the other children nervously shuffled into the groups they would probably stay in their entire lives, if only out of familiarity, whispering awkward greetings while trying not to bring the wrath of the first professor they'd ever met down upon their heads. He heard the rumbling from the great hall, as benches shifted and people chattered, catching up from the summer, if they hadn't met on the train, and making their predictions for the new year.

Because he was busy looking at the students, and the enchanted ceiling, and the professors lined up at the head of the room, he missed the rumbling speech of the talking hat.

_Mine is a thankless task,_

_For every year I gather dust_

_Taken down but once a turn_

_And even then I know I must_

_Be berated by the greedy ones_

_Who cannot wait to feast,_

_And hear of those daughters and sons_

_Whose sorting did not meet their parent's needs._

_But because of me, you'll meet your friends,_

_And sow your future's seeds_.

_For I know your deepest thoughts,_

_Born in your mind's dark maze._

_From your thoughts are born your words_

_And your words foretell your ways._

_From your ways you craft yourself_

_Until you end your days._

As the song trailed off, he knew the gasps of the crowd as one of the dark, scruffy trouble-makers (_Black, Sirius,_ the professor's voice called out) scrambled over to the Gryffindor table with a look of wild-eyed triumph. (_Potter, James_, followed with equal fanfare later).

He knew the whispers and the sharp eyes of the teachers as _Lupin, Remus_ was called and sorted. The ceremony continued as unique individuals were stereotyped and conformed.

Then he heard _Snape, Severus_, and all the eyes turned to him. His scrawny legs shuddered beneath him as he climbed the steps, thinking _what if I trip, what if I tear my robes, what if they all laugh at me and no one will like me and the teachers won't help and what if it tells me I'm wrong, and I can't be a real wizard and someone made a mistake what will I do what_-

It wasn't complete silence that fell when he finally sat down, and the hat was placed on his head. It wasn't silence at all – but his mind quieted and his heart slowed and a voice whispered in his ears _now, there, isn't that better?_

Severus didn't know if he should answer, jerking his head for a moment, trying to see who was talking. _If it's not one thing, it's another_, the voice sighed again. _Be still, and it will be over quickly_.

The hat called out the houses before, so it had to be the one speaking. But no one was chuckling at him for making the hat upset, and everyone was staring with rapt attention – who would get the best students this year? Who will win? – maybe no one could hear what the hat had to say about him.

Or maybe he was just insane.

_I wouldn't jump ahead of ourselves just yet_, the voice whispered, and Severus forced his jittering to stop, keeping his knees from bouncing or tapping his feet.

_Now, see there?_ What part of his vision that was not obscured by the oversized hat was hidden by his hair. He wanted to tell it so, but it wouldn't do to make it angry. _You couldn't want a sharper mind. There is cunning to be had . . . and you do not fear to spend your own blood or toil long in pursuit of your goals. But under all this is such a desire to prove yourself – a thirst I have not seen in many years. It produces the need for such a strong intelligence, it drives you to be patient, and it drives away your fear. That, or not achieving them is what terrifies you more._

Severus wouldn't deny it – he came to Hogwarts to learn and succeed. What was the point of putting up with anything without a goal in mind? He did not reply to the hat's musings.

_You find you have no place in any world here or there and so if you want a place, you must make it for yourself_. It did not sound wrong, and so he did not contradict it. _But which house to choose? You may do much without fear, but Gryffindors would annoy you – running in without thinking of the consequences or without any semblance of a plan. Hufflepuffs would bore you with their inability to change. Ravenclaw would challenge you, but you have no desire to pursue knowledge for its own sake. Ah, notoriety would be wonderful, wouldn't it? After so many years of being underappreciated and overlooked. Nothing drives a person to succeed so much as being made an outcast on the very edge of victory._

The smugness in the voice was almost overwhelming as it dripped its fluid words into his mind. _Every time I put a half-blood in Slytherin I get a pleasant chill I think you would understand. It's why I'll put you there, though you may one day curse me for it._

One day, he might. But for now, the young Severus Snape vacated the stool as quickly as possible, once the hat and its whispering voice were finally removed. Slytherins clapped dutifully, and welcomed him to their table, and they were not cruel nor did they laugh or ask him why he would not talk. They, too, had been raised in the tradition that children, if they must be seen, should not be heard.

_Thankless jobs_, the boy mused. No job would be thankless, he decided, if it pushed him toward an as-yet misty future, where one day everyone would know his name. Pumpkin juice flowed freely, and food continued to appear. Another year began at Hogwarts, and Severus would tentatively say that this new chapter in his life looked . . . promising.

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_Reviews make not studying as much for my Chemistry exam completely worth it_.


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